Secrets Kept
by kuppcake
Summary: Sherlock still hasn't told John or anyone really about his time away from London or who he met while away. Let alone the fact that they kept in touch and that she's an important part of his life now. She doesn't mind being a secret for now, it makes being publically known a little easier.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, everyone. I'm finally posting another short fic! This time it'll be a multi-chapter, Sherlock/OC fic. You could say that this is a bit of an AU since I've added an OC and we're waiting for season four, which premieres January 1st, 2017 if you didn't already know. I do not own any recognizable characters, locations, etc. I only own my original characters and their stories. No copyright infringement is intended. Happy reading and happy Nanowrimo to all the writers participating!

* * *

 _ **221B Baker Street**_

"Well...that was interesting and slightly awkward," Zoe said standing in the middle of the room.

"Just as tedious as I expected. Now I'll have to deal with my mother," Sherlock said with a deep frown as he sank into his chair.

"Will it really be that bad?" she asked, raising an eyebrow when he threw his arms in the air in frustration in response.

"It's always that bad. Mycroft can never make things simple for me. He's probably told the woman we're engaged or you're pregnant. She may very well be on her way here and planning our wedding already," he said.

Zoe's eyes widened. "Oh."

 _ **Two Months Earlier**_

Zoe groaned as she stretched and her right shoulder popped. She was already regretting the yoga class she had gone to the previous afternoon. With a sigh, she closed her eyes hoping to grab a few more minutes of sleep. She quickly realized that was apparently not a part of the plan for the day as slender fingers brushed a few strands of curly hair from her face. She frowned when she realized her scarf had not stayed on through the night.

"Morning," Sherlock said when she swatted at his hand.

Her eyebrows knitted together before she slowly opened her eyes again. "Morning."

Sherlock held back a smirk at her grumbled response, knowing it would do him no favors. He didn't expect her to be very happy this morning after their plans had been interrupted. Instead of a nice Friday night in after a long week, she was stuck hiding out in his room for over an hour. He took in the sight of her a royal blue, silk nightgown and the black and white, polka-dotted, fuzzy socks that poked out from her tangled side of the bed. By the slight pout of her lip, the mild irritation in her eyes and the way her shoulder had popped he knew she was sore, hungry, and annoyed; the last one enhanced by her scarf-less head.

 _I should expect a complaint about it later as she comes up with a last minute fix_ , he thought to himself.

"Sorry I fell asleep last night," she said.

"Sorry the evening was interrupted in the first place," he said with a frown.

"Sherlock, you know there's no way we're going to keep this a secret for much longer if we don't tread a little more carefully," Zoe said with a huff as she thought about the events of last night. She didn't want to sound like she was nagging first thing in the morning, but it was at the forefront of her mind at the moment.

The detective huffed in return and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow beneath him. He spoke, but his words were muffled.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a small smile at his behavior. "What was that?" she asked teasingly as she sat up and gently straddled his back.

He turned his head to the side. "I said, I'm being as careful as possible; deleting text messages, not looking too happy around anyone, and not asking John for relationship advice. Last night was unintentional. John was supposed to be taking Mary to finally meet his sister. Who would have guessed he'd stop by first?"

* * *

 _Sherlock was in the midst of vehemently explaining to Zoe why he didn't want to watch the latest James Bond film when he heard a knock on the door downstairs followed by Mrs. Hudson's foot falls. He walked closer to his own front door and fell silent to listen in._

 _"Oh, hello John, Mary. I wasn't expecting you to stop by this evening. I would have made some things to eat," the landlady said in surprise._

 _Sherlock groaned and turned back to Zoe, who was just getting comfortable on the sofa; her favorite lavender plush blanket wrapped around herself._

 _"What is it?" she asked._

 _"John and Mary are here," he said._

 _He would have been mildly amused at the way her eyes widened, but his frustration directed towards his friend soured his mood._

 _"Crap!" Zoe said as she hopped up from the sofa, nearly tumbling over as the blanket wrapped around her legs. "A little help here!" she hissed lowly._

 _Sherlock quickly helped her untangle herself while grabbing her shoes and her purse. "You'll just have to wait in my room until they leave. They have plans tonight so it shouldn't be long."_

 _"Sherlock, John and Mary are here!" Mrs. Hudson called up._

 _As John and Mary began their trek up the stairs, slowly due to Mary's condition, Zoe quickly made her way into Sherlock's room dragging the blanket behind her. Before he closed the door, she gave him a half-hearted smile and plopped onto his bed._

 _"Sherlock?" John called from the entryway._

 _"No Harry's tonight?" Zoe heard Sherlock ask as he re-entered the main room._

 _"No, we're going. I- I just...if I'm being honest, I'm a little nervous," John said._

 _"And for some reason, he thought you'd be the best person to talk to about it," Mary chimed in._

 _"Well, he can give me a heads-up about what to expect. He knew last time when she was back on the bottle," John said trying to justify his reasoning._

 _Zoe sighed deeply and pulled her laptop and a pair of headphones from her bag as quietly as possible. 'Netflix it is.'_

 _When John and Mary finally left Sherlock went back to his room hoping to continue his evening, only to find Zoe tucked into the duvet, the glow of her laptop screen falling across her face as she slept. He wanted to be annoyed but considered the long week she had dealing with one of her editors and his ego._

 _'I wonder what would be a fun way to knock the man down a few pegs,' he thought. He sighed heavily and walked around the bed. As gently as possible, he pulled the headphones from her ears and picked up her laptop. He made sure to pause her current episode of Grey's Anatomy before shutting the device down._

 _With one last glance, he left the room to conduct some experiments that had been on his to-do list in the kitchen._

* * *

Zoe began to lightly brush her fingers up his spine, goosebumps raising at the contact. "I think you were so into your courtroom level argument about the movie that you didn't feel your phone vibrate. And what do you need advice for, Mr. Holmes? I think you've done quite well those far," she said.

"The trip to the cinema last week for starters; It's what most people do as a date and our attempt ended terribly," he said.

She frowned at the disappointment that laced Sherlock's voice. Although he tried to hide it, she knew he was partially embarrassed and hated the vulnerable state that came with explaining his self-doubts. All this, the close contact, taking her out on actual dates, and spending time with her, was still new for him and he had been trying so hard to act like he was just any other man. A man who could woo her with romantic gestures and try things that seemed to be out of the movies. He could be that man but it would not be true to who he was and they both knew it. His letters and messages during his absence from London had won her heart, but he seemed to forget that bit. She valued his words far more than gestures. Although he struggled at times with verbally explaining his emotions, the letters written between the pair had given him the chance to express himself without the urgency of having her standing in front of him waiting for an answer.

"You're not most people. Which is something you often reiterate aloud. I enjoy you for you, Sherlock. If I wanted a regular Joe shmoe, I wouldn't be here with you. You saw how little fuss I made about the cinema. If anything, I had a good laugh at your deductions. Who knew you could tell so much about someone based on the back of their head in a dark theatre?"

Zoe leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his pale shoulder blade. He was silent until she spoke again.

"You need some sun."

He scoffed. "As if I'll ever get enough of that in London."

"We could always take a trip somewhere warm," she said rolling off of his back and snuggling herself into his right side, under the duvet. She didn't understand how he had gone to bed without a shirt in this weather. 221B was a bit chilly on this February morning so she was happy Sherlock was in a snuggling mood. At times, he wasn't a fan of the close contact.

"Remember Madrid?"

"You mean when you were pretending to be dead and I was dragged momentarily into one of your plots? That was over a year ago and it wasn't even a trip we took together. We just happened to be in the same city at the same time. I vote for somewhere else, " she said poking him in the side.

He jerked away slightly and huffed. "You loved Madrid. You wouldn't stop talking about going back in your letters," he grumbled.

"And when I do I want to spend more time seeing other sites, relax in a bikini and not in art museums, although they were amazing. Doubt you'd be complaining then," she said, a teasing tone in her voice.

He rolled his eyes at her. "How mature," he said.

She stuck her tongue out, forgetting momentarily that she was pressed so closely against him. The result was Zoe giggling when her tongue touched his arm and came to the realization of what had just happened. Sherlock's confused face made her laugh harder.

"Did you just lick me?" he said frowning.

She waited until her giggles subsided to speak. "Not intentionally. I was trying to stick my tongue out at you, but your arm got in the way."

"Got in the way? As if I'm the one who chose this position," he said, "And you've proven me right. Your maturity level is questionable."

"Whatever will you do with me, Mr. Holmes?" she said grinning at him.

Sherlock opened his mouth to tell her about all the germs that resided on the human body but was cut off by the ringing of his phone. He glared at the device before reaching across her to retrieve it from the bedside table.

"What is it?" he said answering the phone. She almost swatted him for his rudeness but knew it wouldn't change anything.

Zoe watched as his eyes lit up and couldn't help it when her mischievous grin melted into a soft smile. She was always fascinated with how excited he got about his work. She loved writing for magazines and other publications, but she didn't always light up at the thought of a new project. Sometimes she even passed on stories. There were moments when the subject matter of an article was so heavy that she wasn't sure she could take on another one so quickly afterward. It was a part of journalism, which could explain why that wasn't her main occupation.

She was known for her prose as a published author, but more recently her journalism; her pieces covering a variety of topics from drug epidemics around the world, and immigration to the science of eyeliner and music festival culture. She never felt guilty about passing on projects or felt the need to explain that her brain was stuck on another project, particularly when she was currently in the midst of writing the sequel to her novel and couldn't bring herself to leave the story idle for too long. It seemed at times that most her editors understood when she needed a break to work on her own thing or to mentally recover from a partially tasking piece. She was a novelist first and foremost who had fallen into journalism unintentionally.

"Curious murder near Parliament," he said looking down at her.

"What's so curious about it?" she said, almost regretting asking. Details of cases weren't always pretty or for the faint of heart.

His smile grew at the question. "They've only discovered half of the body. The police are still searching for the other half."

Sherlock's excitement and the gruesome details almost made her cringe.

"What a lovely thing to be excited about," she said patting his cheek. She rolled out from underneath of him and began to pull her toiletry tote from her overnight bag and placing her laptop back inside its sleeve.

He too climbed from the jumble of sheets and blankets. "Your sarcasm is noted."

She chuckled. "Glad you didn't miss it this time. Your brain is so literal at times that it zooms right by you."

Sherlock paused from beginning his search for something to wear and walked to her side of the room where she was now looking for her missing peep toe pump.

"And you and John continue to build my awareness of it," he said wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. "Your shoe is underneath the bed."

She pivoted in his arms and leaned up to give him a chaste kiss. "Thank you, darling."

After Sherlock had returned to his wardrobe and she was halfway under the bed, she had a thought. "I would like to meet him one day, you know."

He spoke without turning to her. "Who?"

Zoe huffed, grabbed her shoe, and pulled herself into a seated position on the floor. "John, of course."

"Right. He'd make an absolute ruckus. You should have seen him when he thought I was with Janine. Quite comical."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you were laughing at the poor man the entire time."

When the two had showered, separately this morning, and dressed, Zoe left first through the back door of Mrs. Hudson's flat. The landlady was just next door for an early lunch. Sherlock departed five minutes later, texting John, and hailing a cab.

A few hours later, Zoe was lounging in her apartment doing research for her next article, which focused on women in the British government. Her initial correspondence with Lady Smallwood was going well, but she had yet to select the rest of the women she wanted to profile for the piece. If this was going to be a major article she needed a few more interviewees. She had closed her eyes for a moment to take a break when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her.

 _[SherBear] The other half was in another hotel room on the opposite side of the floor. No blood trail, simply an odor. S.H._

She had changed Sherlock's contact on a night that involved too much Tequila and had found it too funny to return back to normal. Sherlock had flushed and grumbled about stupid nicknames the first time he had seen it.

 _[Zoe] How strange._

 _[SherBear] Quite. My deduction leads me to assume it's the result of a combination of poisons that caused the blood to coagulate followed by dismemberment. In a cab to St. Bart's to test samples. S.H._

 _[Zoe] Yay science!_

I took him a few minutes to respond this time.

 _[SherBear] Sarcasm? S.H._

Zoe chuckled and took a sip from the cup of tea that was resting between her notebooks before responding.

 _[Zoe] Somewhat. It truly is fascinating at times, when it's explained in less intimidating terms._

 _[SherBear] I could explain over dinner or perhaps a nightcap, depending on if we finish by tonight. S.H._

She smiled softly at his response.

 _[Zoe] No can do, darling :( Heavy into the research for my piece. Hitting a bit of a wall on how to make this one of the more intriguing profile pieces._

 _[SherBear] There you go with the emoji things. Governmental figures and employees, yes? S.H._

 _[Zoe] :P Yes_

 _[SherBear] I rolled my eyes in case you were wondering. Look into women in the shadows of our government so to speak. Could be interesting. S.H._

Zoe hummed. Women in the shadows of the government.

 _[Zoe] You are quite smart. Thank you, Sherbet. Good luck on your case!_

She chuckled and sat her phone down. She could imagine his annoyed face at the nickname. He knew of her love for the frozen treat, but never appreciated her play on words. Her smile grew when he didn't respond.

"Why do you look like that?" John asked as he looked over and saw his friend frowning at his phone.

Sherlock looked up from his mobile device. "It's nothing. Some data isn't cooperating. Seems like it wants to be purposefully annoying."

"You speak as if data is capable of such a thing," John said shaking his head.

"Oh, this particular set is quite good at it," Sherlock said.

If John was deciphering him correctly, which he was rarely sure he did, he would have thought Sherlock's tone indicated fondness.

"Right," John said, eyebrows furrowing.

When the cab reached St. Bart's, John hopped out first and went ahead. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his companion's swift escape. He had been doing that a lot since his return. Sherlock suspected it was payback for all the times he had been left to pay the fare on a case.

In her flat, Zoe was reaching out to a friend who had contacts within MI6 from past work.

* * *

Well, that's chapter one of Secrets Kept. Sherlock will probably be a little OOC because I tried to capture his personality the best I could, but I imagine he'd be a little bit different if he were in a relationship. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Chapter two will be up by the end of the week or early next week...hopefully -K


	2. Chapter 2

A little later than planned but as promised, here's chapter two! Once again, I do not own any recognizable characters, locations, etc. I only own my original characters. No copyright infringement is intended. Enjoy!

* * *

Mycroft Holmes read over the email that had appeared in his inbox that morning once again. Anthea had forwarded the message, from someone lower who had forwarded her the message from someone else. The original sender was a journalist who wanted to include some of his employees in a profile piece for the London Script. It was meant to be an article on women in the government, but she wanted to mix things up a bit, go a bit deeper. She was promising complete anonymity and no questions about classified work. She only wanted to focus on their experience of working within the British government as women.

 _But are those her true intentions?_ He thought to himself. Mycroft had seen her name before but she hadn't raised any alarms then. His team kept track of most big name journalists and anyone involved in the media in _relevant_ ways. He certainly wasn't monitoring reality TV stars.

"What journalist in their right mind would try to contact us directly?" Mycroft said.

Anthea looked up from her spot on one of the couches in his office. "Is that rhetorical, sir?"

Mycroft didn't even attempt to reply. He simply gave her a blank stare. When did he ever ask rhetorical questions? It would be a waste of time and breath to do so.

"It's not quite directly, sir. She reached out to Lena McCarthy, one of the journalists whose story research helped us break up that drug ring back in 2013. McCarthy forwarded Ms. Howard's interest to Agent Lewis, who sent it to Agent Rowan, who sent it to me," she said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes at her response. "And here it is in my inbox. I'm assuming they are connected by something dull and sentimental. University friends?"

"Yes, they met in graduate school at Cardiff. She did her undergrad at Manchester."

He sat his hands in front of him on his mahogany desk. "Is she legitimate? As in, has her writing appeared in anything other than a teen magazine?"

Anthea hummed and tapped the screen of her mobile a few times. "She's won several writing awards and has one best-seller out and is expected to release the sequel within the next year. She's got quite a following on social media," she said.

"Anything else?" he said.

"She's highly regarded both literary and journalism communities. It seems she wrote that article about the drug culture that's overtaken music festivals that you seemed to agree with on several points last year."

A glare was sent her way.

"Just saying, sir."

He eyed her for a moment and came to the conclusion that she had stopped at Starbucks on her way in and had gotten two extra pumps of sweetener or caramel syrup... _it was the caramel_ , in her latte, thus giving her a bit too much energy this morning.

"You're only selling her up because you want to be interviewed," he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and began to look through other files that say in her lap. "Maybe. But I also think a piece like the one she's trying to put together would be an interesting read."

"Your ideas of interesting are very different than my own it seems. Cut back on the sugar." Mycroft said.

He mulled over the idea for a moment. It had been a little over a month since Sherlock's "banishment" had been recalled. Whoever had used Moriarity's likeness to capture their attention had yet to make a move, but they knew it was coming. Was this woman the beginning of that? In the past, they had overlooked Moriarity's ability to buy off the average citizen. The man had caused chaos in three separate locations just by paying off people. Who was to say this journalist wasn't apart of a plot to get intel on his agents?

With Sherlock's drug habit resurfacing after the wedding and then again just weeks prior, Mycroft felt he had to work a bit harder to keep his brother out of harm's way...despite Sherlock always trying to find a way to throw himself into every dangerous crime circle in the entire world. Mycroft was pleased that he could keep him limited now that the world knew he was alive.

Mycroft could not forget the times when there was a lapse in intel regarding Moriarty's network. Sherlock had taken it upon himself to look into other groups that were hanging about. Groups that other agencies like the CIA, MI6, etc., had been working on for quite some time. Sure, the intel helped, especially Holmes level intel, but he would rather his brother not be around such people.

 _Only more facts will tell how this needs to be handled. I need to be the one to find them and analyze them._ At least that's what he told himself. While Anthea was careful in her research and he trusted her, he'd rather do it himself and leave no doubts. Besides, she wanted the woman to be clean so she could be included in the piece.

 _The only one without a motive is me._

* * *

Zoe was in the middle of brainstorming interview questions that evening when her phone rang. She grabbed it and smiled at the name that appeared on the touchscreen.

"Hello?"

An alto voice mumbled a curse before speaking more clearly. "Buzz me up, Zo. I can't balance this phone, pizza, and sangria for much longer. Your doorman tried to help but I told him I had it. Nice bloke, that one."

She smiled at her friend's voice. Only Natalia would show up randomly with food without even checking to see if she was home.

"I'm craving pizza. Hold on," Zoe said.

She sat her laptop down on the coffee table and wrapped the polka dot blanket around herself, making sure not to drag it along the cherrywood floor as she walked over to the door of her flat. She'd done that at Baker Street and almost bust her face open.

"How'd you even know I was home?" she said.

"Didn't. I was on the way home from work and decided I needed company. You live the closest to my commute route," Natalia said.

"And here I thought I was special," she said as she pressed the button allowing her friend access to the lift. "Get up here so I can destroy that pizza," she continued.

"Yeah, yeah. Then you're going to whine about how you need to work out more," Natalia said before she hung up.

"She's not wrong," Zoe mumbled aloud to herself.

She lingered near the door until she heard the lift in the hallway ding. At the sound, she opened her door and peeked out. Natalia huffed as she caught sight of her grinning face. She was flushed pink from trying to balance everything.

"A little help here, my friend," she said.

Zoe chuckled before quickly going out into the hallway and grabbing the bottle of sangria and Natalia's purse from her side.

"You should have let Henry help you. You clearly don't "have it"," she teased.

"Shut it," was the response she got.

Once the pair were settled into the apartment, Natalia made her way into the kitchen to grab plates and glasses. Zoe chuckled as her friend rummaged through her cabinets. They had been friends since primary school and the action was normal. Even when they were younger and Zoe was living with her parents, Natalia would waltz in and go straight for the fridge. Her parents found it strange at first but grew fond of the red headed girl. Now they both called the other's parents mum and dad.

"Grab the ones with the blue chevron designs. Haven't used those yet," Zoe said.

"Oh, new houseware," Natalia called back.

"Those are the ones my mum got me for Christmas," she said.

"Good ol', Anita," Natalia hummed.

Zoe rolled her eyes and made her way over to one of the white Ikea bought bookshelves near the television. Instead of books, these shelves were lined with DVDs and Blu-rays. There were even a few stray VHS tapes from her childhood near the bottom. She told herself she was saving them for any children she had, but realistically she still watched them when she had crappy days.

"What are you in the mood for? Romance, action, drama?"

"Nothing that will make me cry. I've already had a bloody awful day that made me want to scream. I may have even had to go into the lady's room to hold back tears," her friend said exiting the kitchen with two plates from the set Zoe mentioned and two wine glasses.

Zoe spun around her mouth agape. "What? Who do I have to fight?"

Natalia chuckled as she placed the items on the coffee table in front of the couch. She neatly stacked the many papers that were spread across the surface and placed them in a pile.

"Thanks," Zoe said as she caught the action, "Now, come on. Who am I fighting? Those boxing classes might come in handy."

"I won't have you fighting anyone, Zo. Alex basically trashed my proposal in front of the whole creative team. It was embarrassing," Natalia said with a frown as she sat down on the couch.

Zoe's face fell at her friend's downhearted expression. "From what I've heard from you, that proposal was golden. They'll pick your brief over his. He's a git. Just you wait, they'll see it too," she said.

If she had the opportunity to meet this Alex guy, Zoe vowed in that moment she'd punch him in the face. This was not the first time he had been the source of Natalia's stress at the advertising agency she worked for.

Zoe turned back to the shelf and smiled as she spotted a good choice. She grabbed it and made her way to the Blu-ray player to put the disk in and turn on the television.

Natalia gave a weak smile. "I'll guess we'll see. I'm twenty-seven. I shouldn't be crying in the bathroom. Enough about me, though. How's ol' Willy boy?"

Zoe snorted. "He would give you a death glare if he ever heard you call him that," she said. "He's good, though. He was busy with work today, but we were texting earlier. He's the one who actually helped me get some ideas about this next piece."

"That's good. Glad to hear this one can actually make time for you and encourages your writing," Natalia said.

"Ugh, let's not even allude to Xavier. It'll leave a sour taste in my mouth for days," Zoe said.

"You're right. Out with the old and in with the new someone once said. Don't know who, but someone did. Anyways, a while back you said William was really busy with work and kept crazy hours," Natalia said.

"That was when he was away on business. It's changed now that he's back. I mean his hours are still all over, but he makes time for me," Zoe said with a small smile. Away on business was how Zoe had described Sherlock to the loved ones who had asked. They'd flip if they knew away on business meant traveling around the taking down a criminal syndicate while playing dead. They knew she was seeing someone and they had gotten serious over the last year, but she and Sherlock had decided to keep it out of the limelight for as long as possible. Sadly, that meant keeping his identity from her friends and family and her existence from his. She was sure Sherlock was being over the top when he made the decision not to tell his family he was seeing someone at all but figured it was for a good reason.

"Tell me about that blind date you went on last week," Zoe continued not wanting to have to go into too much detail about her relationship. It was constant method she had to use and she felt slightly bad.

"It was average. He was nice, but it didn't light any fires."

Zoe gave her friend a playful pout. "No second date then?"

"Nope. He'd make a decent friend, though; great taste in art and stuff, just no romantic vibes."

Zoe nodded in understanding.

"Invite him out the next time we get everyone together. Our little group could always use more gentlemen."

"Only if you invite William," Natalia said poking her in the arm.

"We'll see. He's not a fan of big crowds," Zoe said. _He'd probably deduce them all and I'd have some very pissed off friends_ , she thought to herself.

The women quickly dived into the deep dish pizza and poured themselves generous glassfuls of sangria as the movie started.

"I want to meet this William soon," Natalia said quickly.

Zoe didn't acknowledge the comment beyond a "hn" to let Natalia know she heard it. She knew her friend meant well and only worried for her because her last relationship hadn't ended in the best way. She also knew that Sherlock wasn't for everyone. Hell, Sherlock, his deductions, and personality weren't for most people. The only way to describe it would be that he was an acquired taste. You had to have a strong sense of self and an ability to ignore some outlandish behaviors. It saddened her because when he let you in, he was an amazing man. But he didn't often let people in whether it be out of the fear that they wouldn't understand and judge him or constantly being told for years that caring is a disadvantage. She was glad he had let her in. It was an unexpected meeting and connection, but she wouldn't change it.

She smiled at the thought of her partner's most memorable shenanigans that she had witnessed over the last year or so.

The next afternoon, Zoe was seated at the desk in her home office when her phone chimed letting her know that there was a new email in her inbox. She was hoping Lena had something for her regarding access to people she could interview. She had spent most of the day so far once again preparing interview questions. Zoe unlocked the screen but paused momentarily when she didn't recognize the sender address.

It wouldn't be the first time someone she didn't know had reached out to her, it was the norm in her industry really, so she opened the message. As she skimmed the message, any worries she had about her profile piece coming together fell away as the smile on her face grew.

She was given a date, time, and location and told to forward her questions to the sender so they could be screened in advance. Attached was a contract overviewing procedures and a few warnings about treason, classified information, and other illegal things that reminded her how serious this all was. Those few pages would have been scarier if she wasn't so wasn't discouraged in the slightest. If anything, it made her more excited.

This piece could solidify her place in the journalism world. She had started out post-grad as a guest columnist and then an author but had broken into more journalistic writing more recently. A few in the field were a little frosty towards her, with views on authors, especially those who choose to write fiction. _Playing make believe isn't a talent._ That was one of the things she'd overheard a bitter journalist at one of the papers she had freelanced for say after her story had been picked for the front page over the other's. Thankfully, Zoe found more than a few publications and journalists were more than happy to welcome her onto their staff. And now here she was, getting ready to write what could be the biggest piece of her career.

She opened one of the ongoing message threads on her phone.

[Zoe] Got approval for the interviews!

[SherBear] Extra exclamations…have you already had celebratory wine.

Zoe laughed aloud at his response.

[Zoe] Not yet. It's midday. Had sangria last night, though. I get a bit chatty and clingy when I'm tipsy, as you well know. Except now I'm sober and there's no one to chat with or cling to at the moment.

[SherBear] You sound lonely. Your digital flirting needs some work.

Zoe rolled her eyes.

[Zoe] The case?

[SherBear] Until we can find the victim's husband, things are at a standstill.

[Zoe] Meaning you'll be in your palace thinking up hiding spots.

She would be more than happy to have Sherlock over, but she didn't want to pull him away from his case. She knew how dearly he valued his work, how deep he went mentally and sometimes physically to see each case to its end. This behavior is what brought them together in Madrid.

[SherBear] Dinner tomorrow?

[Zoe] Chip shop or dressy dinner?

[Sherbear] Had fish and chip last week.

[Zoe] So dressy then.

[Sherbear] Will text details later. Good luck with Lady Smallwood tomorrow.

[Zoe] Thanks.

Zoe put the phone down and took a deep breath. Tomorrow she took another step to getting this done. _Can't be a ball of nerves in front of someone like Lady Smallwood._

* * *

I meant to have this chapter up earlier this week, but I've been emotionally and mentally exhausted with the election here in the U.S. As it's nearly 2 AM I should be asleep but I wanted to get this out. Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter and I caught any errors. We get small bits about how they met, Zoe's social circle and what she's been telling them about "William", and what Mycroft thinks about Zoe from afar.

Thank you to **Galwidanatitud** , **Ellis Jenkins** , and **Feoreldia** for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciate it.

Next time we'll see more Sherlock x Zoe face to face time and a brief meeting and deduction. Leave a review and let me know what you think!

Until next time, -K


	3. Chapter 3

On to chapter 3! As usual I don't own any of Sir Arthur Doyle amazing characters. Read, enjoy, and review!

* * *

Thankfully there was no snow on the Thursday Zoe was supposed to see Lady Smallwood. The pair were scheduled to meet in the late afternoon, after meetings and a hearing the dignitary had to sit in on were done. Zoe had made sure to dress smartly in a knee-length, navy blue sheath dress, skin toned stockings, and low-heeled pumps that matched the dress. She had bundled up in her camel colored pea coat and burgundy scarf, but was glad she decided on the three-fourth sleeved dress. It insured that she didn't overheat in the heated building after she took her outerwear off. Going through security was always tedious, but she understood it's importance.

As Sherlock had told her to expect and unfortunately, the hearing ran over and pushed the meeting back. Zoe sat in the lobby in front of Lady Smallwood's office and found herself trying not to tap her foot impatiently on the tiles. It was a terrible habit she had developed as a child and had not grown out of. She was also deeply regretting not stashing some kind of snack in her bag. Growing up, her mother had always had something for her to nibble on in her purse.

Fighting her hunger, Zoe pulled out her phone and looked over her schedule for the day. Whenever there was a big article, keeping track of everything could get hectic; interviews, research, meeting with photographers for visuals, and so on. Her dinner reservations with Sherlock were at seven, giving her just over three hours to clear her interview questions with Lady Smallwood, discuss any lingering logistics and concerns, get back across the city to her flat, change, and meet Sherlock at the restaurant, which was in the heart of the city. Her stomach was more than ready for a meal.

 _'Shouldn't have eaten such an early lunch.'_

She sighed deeply and then managed give a small smile to the secretary who had looked up at the sound.

"She shouldn't be much longer, Ms. Howard," the woman said.

"She's a busy woman, so I understand," Zoe said. She looked around making sure no one else was in the area before continuing. "Just between you and I, I have dinner plans with a very handsome gentleman."

The other woman smiled brightly. "Well, let's hope you can make it. My husband's out of town for work so it's just me tonight," she said.

"Let's hope I can. And sometimes a few hours to yourself can be beneficial," she said.

The woman nodded. "It certainly can be."

Ten minutes later, Zoe was scrolling through her Twitter timeline and rolling her eyes at the latest drama, when Lady Smallwood swept into the lobby. Her face was flushed, showing that she had rushed here, but her stride was still graceful.

"I must apologize for the delay, Ms. Howard. One cannot always predict schedules when it comes to the law and those who enjoy arguing about it," Lady Smallwood said approaching her.

Zoe stood with a smile, shaking the woman's outstretched hand, before gathering her purse and her laptop satchel.

"Please, join me in my office and we'll begin," Lady Smallwood said.

As she followed her into the office, the woman's wafting perfume met her nose. ' _Smells nice'_.

An hour and a half later, Zoe was sharing parting pleasantries with the parliamentarian and her secretary, Nancy, before speed-walking down the marble hallway. When she got off of the elevator at the ground floor, she turned the corner and approached the main entrance, passing a well-dressed man carrying an umbrella. She frowned remembering that it wasn't raining today. When she noticed he paused in his walk to gaze at her, she gave him a polite smile.

"It's not supposed to rain today, is it?" she inquired, her head titled.

He frowned at her. "No, it is not," he said. His tone almost made her regret offering him a smile. ' _Wasted effort,' s_ he said to herself.

 _'Then why are you carrying an umbrella?'_ That was what she wanted to ask, but it was already half past five and she didn't have time to have a conversation with this stranger. His demeanor was off-putting anyway. She was sure he could make small children cry with a look.

"Right. Well, good day then," she said quickly. She didn't want to be rude, but she was in a rush. As she hailed a taxi outside, she shot Sherlock a text letting him know the meeting went well and that she was heading home.

Mycroft watched as the woman glanced at him once more before she swiftly exited the building. He recognized her face from the photographs that had come up during his and Athena's background checks.

 _'She's late for something and was curious about umbrella_ ,' he thought to himself. Given the time of day, her physical appearance, and her dating history, he concluded that she was probably meeting a male companion for dinner.

He rolled his eyes at the thought of small talk and lovey-dovey conversation over a meal. _Sentiment._ He could only hope that she would be more punctual for her meetings with his employees. He was slightly frustrated that he didn't have the time to deduce her more before she scurried off.

* * *

Zoe was frowning as she swept into the restaurant ten minutes late. Not to mention the rude man with the umbrella, traffic had been horrid and the zipper on her first choice for the evening had broken in her haste. She had to quickly find an alternative. She ended up grabbing a red off the shoulder dress that was a little more fitting than she had wanted. She could tell by the lingering gazes of her taxi driver and people she had passed on the sidewalk before she buttoned her jacket and tightened her scarf around her neck. She had texted Natalia earlier and was reminded that the last time she had worn the dress she was single and out with her friends for a girl's night. It had gotten her plenty of drink and date offers. She hoped it wouldn't cause problems tonight.

After giving the name of "Will Turner" (an inside joke after making Sherlock watch _The Pirates of the Caribbean_ films), Zoe was guided over to a table closer to the back of the Latin restaurant. Sherlock always had a way of finding tables that granted them privacy without making it feel like they were hiding.

He stood at her arrival and waited for her to unbutton her jacket before he pulled it from her shoulders and laid it over the back of her chair with her scarf. When she was seated, the host told them that he would let their waitress know they were ready. He gave Zoe a lingering smile that she missed before he walked away.

When Zoe looked up at Sherlock, he was glaring after the man.

"What?" she asked. It was nothing new for him to deduce others' thoughts about her when they were out together.

He focused his blue-green eyes on her. "He was thinking of how to discreetly slip you his number and appreciating your bosom," he said letting his eyes take in her attire.

She flushed at his gaze. "I wasn't planning on wearing this tonight. I broke the zipper on my other favorite dress and grabbed whatever I saw first in the closet. Bad choice, clearly," she said.

He was quiet as reclaimed her gaze. She could feel her skin heating up.

"Don't look at me like that," she said.

"Like what?" he said, purposefully lowering his voice.

She huffed, seeing him fight to keep a smirk off his face. He knew what he was doing.

"You know how. I'd rather not be caught doing anything scandalous in public," Zoe said.

Sherlock smirked. "How quickly your mind goes to the gutters," he hummed.

"It's your fault," she said.

"I apologize for leading your mind astray. In regards to your dress, I don't mind the view. Unfortunately, I must deal with the thoughts of others," he said lowly more out of irritation than another attempt to make her flustered.

"Sorry, darling," she said picking up her menu.

She missed him rolling his eyes at the pet name. He often rolled his eyes when she let them slip. He wouldn't tell her, but he had grown fond of the tame ones. He still cringed at the thought of names like sweetie, baby, and pooky bear.

"Why are you frowning like that?" she asked.

"No reason. I'm trying to decide if I'm in the mood to eat," he said.

She hummed returning her gaze back down to her menu. "Well, you can't burn any calories later if you don't consume any," she said lightly.

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond but paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper. "Are you planning to withhold sex if I don't eat?" he said.

"No, because I know as much as you enjoy it, you're not driven by those kinds of desires like so many other people. But, I would hate for you to get lightheaded during the act if you happen to be in the mood to participate. I'm also thinking that if you have to run around a bit for the case you'll be better off having eaten something," she said with a small smirk.

Sherlock huffed before picking up his menu.

"Now, tell me about this half a body case. Any new leads? Has John given it a funny name yet?" she said.

Sherlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "He typically waits until after we solve the cases before naming them. We're simply passing the time while Lestrade digs around for addresses for one of the two suspects," he said.

"Two suspects?"

"Yes, one to do the gorey work and the other to make up the body. No one knew the man was dead because he was present on a video conference for work the previous day. Co-workers say he only communicated via the chat box, claiming to have laryngitis. Beyond looking a bit pale, they said he looked fine. The killers propped him up in front of his webcam." he said.

Zoe shivered. "That's...strange. People are weird," she said. She was quiet for a moment. "Unless this guy had all his passwords and schedule on him, how did the killers know about the meeting and get access to it on his laptop?"

"That's how we came up with our suspects. His assistant and fiancee'. Both would have had access to that information. He had a terrible memory and kept it in a small journal locked safe in his office. At home, it was kept in a locked drawer in a desk," he said.

The journalist in her wanted to ask more questions but their waiter had approached the table with a smile. The young woman's eyes widened a bit and the pair became wary of her, wondering if she was a fan or follower of their partner or perhaps both.

"Hi, I'm Hayley. I'll be waiting on you this evening," she began sounding nervous. "And I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything Ms. Howard, but I'm big fan of your work and I'm really excited about the next book," she continued quietly.

"Oh, you're fine. You didn't make me uncomfortable at all. I'm glad to hear you're excited about the next one. I've been working really hard on it," Zoe said giving her a smile.

The young woman grinned. "That's awesome. Right, well, can I start you out with drinks and then I can take your orders if you've decided what you want," she said.

After their orders were taken Hayley quickly walked away. Zoe breathed a sigh of relief.

"At least she was polite," Sherlock said.

"Yeah, let's just hope she's not in the back tweeting about seeing me here."

"She's not. Too polite and too much of a fan to risk you being angry at her if she put your business out in public," Sherlock said.

Zoe chuckled. "You deduce anything else?"

"When she realized who you were, her pupils dilated. She was very excited but she also has a crush," he said.

Zoe wiggled her eyebrows. "Jealous?"

This time Sherlock rolled his eyes.

When her mouth wasn't full of food, Zoe told Sherlock what she could about the meeting with Lady Smallwood. At the mention of the encounter with the man carrying the umbrella, Sherlock tensed.

"What?" she asked.

"Nobody else is ridiculous enough to carry around an umbrella with this kind of weather except my brother," he said.

"That was your brother? Hmm, that makes sense. His stare was intense. He was probably trying to read me. You guys...you don't really look alike," she said.

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I didn't mean it to be good or bad. Just simply stating a fact. And you know what? He's not at all like I imagined him to look after you talked about his dieting troubles," she said.

"He didn't say anything else besides answering your question?" he asked ignoring her comment.

"Nope. He was short with me and I didn't have time to stand around and chat with him," she said.

Sherlock looked around the restaurant before releasing a deep breath. "Luckily, he didn't pick up on anything and have you followed," he said.

"Not yet at least," she said.

* * *

Two weeks later, Zoe found herself standing in the lobby of a rather upscale hotel. She was scheduled to meet with the sixth and last of the employees she had been allowed accessed to. So far, the women had been pleasant, if not intimidating. Zoe knew that all of these women weren't just sitting behind desks either. She knew they were trained and several were field agents who took their jobs very seriously. She wasn't even embarrassed when she had asked one of the women for her workout routine. The woman, who she knew as Emily, had great arms. Emily chuckled and told her she wouldn't be able to lift her arms the next day if she did her routine.

The room key had been placed in her mailbox just this morning, followed by an e-mail letting her know it was there. She rearranged her bag on her shoulder and made her way to the elevators. Sherlock had told her after her first meeting that there was good chance that there were other agents in the building keeping an eye on her. Nobody in the lobby stood out to her, but that wasn't surprising. They were trained not to stand out.

When Zoe opened the mahogany door of the room, she caught sight of a well-dressed, but not overly fancy brunette typing away on her phone and seated on the light blue sofa on the opposite side of the room. She hadn't even looked up when Zoe closed the door. The other women had at least acknowledged her presence upon arrival. She tried not to be offended. The room was nice with white embossed wallpaper with a gold trim around the baselines, a mahogany desk and a comfortable looking office chair. The bed seemed to be in the second room of the suite.

"Hello," she said placing her satchel down on the table beside the sofa.

The woman finally looked up and gave Zoe a nod. "Hello."

"Stating the obvious, but I'm Zoe Howard, the author turned journalist who will be interviewing you today," Zoe said. By now, she had forced herself to relax like she had done during her other interviews.

She put her phone in her navy blue suit jacket before giving Zoe an amused smile. "The name I'll be identifying as in your article and during the duration of this interview is Tiffany. Before we start, I'll need to check you out for any recording devices or weapons. I'll also remind you that at the end of this process I will be reviewing everything you've written," she said.

Zoe nodded. "Yes, I'm familiar with the process. Your co-workers are thorough."

She proceeded to empty her bag and pockets at a leisurely pace. It would appear rude to an outsider, like she was delaying, but she had made the mistake of hastily dumping her bag the first time around. The agent she knew as Shawna had tensed and had a hand hovering over her hip where Zoe assumed her firearm was concealed.

 _"I'll need you to empty your bag and remove everything from your pockets. I need to check for recording devices and weapons," Shawna said._

 _"Right," Zoe said. She was nervous. She had been informed in the email she received this morning that the agents would be armed and would be taking every precaution to make sure she wouldn't break any of the rules she had agreed on when she signed the contract. She knew if anything she asked or said was interpreted the wrong way she could face an investigation and maybe even end up on one of those watch lists or whatever they used keep track of people the government was wary of._

 _She took her satchel off of her shoulder and removed her laptop and compact mirror before flipping the bag upside down. The remaining notebook, pens, and knicknacks clattered onto the table. She heard an intake of breath and looked up to see Shawna watching her closely. The woman's hand was resting on her hip._

 _It took her a moment to realize the noise her belongings had made unsettled her. "Oh...um, sorry about that."_

When her belongings were all on the table she stood back and let the other women examine them.

After an examination and an all clear, the pair sat down, Zoe on the office-like rolling chair behind the desk and the agent back in her spot on the sofa.

"Well to begin, my first question is a very general. We'll get more into specific experiences as we go along. From the minimum file I was able to look at, you've been in your position for several years. Let's start by discussing any changes you've seen in recent years regarding how our government utilizes, interacts with, and responds to its female employees."

Zoe listened about her experiences from her first day on the job up until now. They talked about comments she had received from both male and female counterparts, how her boss treated her and what she thought of the women who would come behind her. The agent didn't see herself as a role model or any kind of trendsetter. She had told Zoe that the female agents that came before, who were very much restricted to desk work, though limited in involvement, did good work. The information gathered, codes broken, and data archived by those women was still used today.

At the end of the interview, the agent gave Zoe some time to wrap up her writing. As she watched the journalist type away on her laptop, she spoke.

"I'm kind of impressed just so you know," she said.

Zoe looked up from the blinking cursor.

"And I don't hand out compliments often," the agent continued.

"With what? Me or this project?" Zoe said.

"Both. I will let you know that out of all the women you've met with thus far, excluding Lady Smallwood, I work the closest to the top. My boss was familiar with your writing and you're surprisingly composed for someone writing a piece that some people will overlook or heavily criticize," she answered.

Zoe nodded and appeared to think on her response for a moment. "Thank you for the praise, but truly I'm only composed out of practice. During my first ever interviews two years ago, I mumbled my words and lost my place in my notes. As for the critics, I'm not worried much about them. If I did I would have never pursued publication for any of my work. That's not to say I don't want people to like it, because I most definitely do. It just has to the right people. I'm not writing this for narrow-minded and sexist critics and readers. I'm writing this for women who still believe they're limited in career choices, for the young women hesitant to study government and policy at university. Who knows there could be some little girl out there who's seen far too many James Bond movies and has just the slightest interest in that line of work. My mother once said, 'Those who fear change or intelligent discussion will always come against those who drive it and distribute it," Zoe said.

Anthea gave her a small smile. It seemed that Howard was smarter than either she or Mycroft had assumed. She was pleased to see that unlike some who wanted the biggest scoop or simply wanted their name to a big story, Zoe Howard cared and put her heart into her writing. She had fleeting thought about a detective who put his heart into his work even though he tried to hide it. She wondered how Howard would get on with that Holmes brother.

* * *

This chapter was bit longer and at times more of a filler kind of. I wanted to expand on Zoe's interactions with other people to show what kind of person she is and you get to see a bit more Zoe & Sherlock's relationship. I'm aware that it may cause Sherlock appear a bit OOC, but that's what I expect out of relationships. They change people. Not to the point of being a completely different person, but a bit. We also had a quick encounter between Zoe and Mycroft, and some Athena. Athena doesn't get enough screen time so I added a bit of her meeting Zoe as well.

I meant to update sooner, but the week before last was my birthday week and then the following week was Thanksgiving here in the U.S., which was filled with grocery shopping, cleaning, trying to help cook, and then visiting family. I'm going to try and get another chapter out this week to make up for it though. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors I may have missed.

Leave a review! - K


	4. Chapter 4

Here's chapter four. It's the longest chapter thus far to make up for the slowness of the update. There's a small a time jump, some drunkenness, and a sexual innuendo later in the chapter just in case that might bother anyone. Here's to hoping I caught any grammar or spelling mistakes lol. Read & Review!

* * *

Zoe's piece, Mascara, Handguns, and Politics: A Spotlight on Women in the British Government and Secret Services had been published for two months and the buzz was still high. She had appeared on several radio and television shows to discuss the article. Her publicist and agent were beyond happy at this point. Unlike when she was tucked away writing, they had plenty to keep them busy and earning their paychecks. The article put her name and work in front of eyes that hadn't read her novel yet, so the sales had risen in the last month. It made her ecstatic.

Sherlock did not feel the same. Of course, he was pleased with her success, but the renewed media attention forced them to be even more careful than they had already been. Neither was embarrassed by the relationship, simply hesitant of the fanfare that was guaranteed to ensue when it was made public knowledge. His "relationship" with Janine and her made up stories last year had already made Zoe cringe at the headlines they would come up with.

Sherlock already had quite a few fans who sent letters and emails expressing romantic interest; both males and females. Zoe sometimes even read them to him when they were bored. Her fans were anticipating a sequel to her novel so most of her correspondence with fans were tweets about the book's progress.

They wanted to enjoy their semi-relaxed outings for as long as they could; semi-relaxed because Sherlock's brain rarely allowed him to relax completely when out in public. Sherlock was frustrated and Zoe knew it. She tried her best to keep encounters with fans and critics in public short not only for his sake but for her own sanity. It was exhausting having the same conversations over and over again. While Sherlock complained, he enjoyed the way she shut down a sexist man who had yelled at her in a Starbucks last week.

Today, they were meeting for lunch in a small cafe. Zoe called it a hidden gem, as it was tucked in between a sandwich shop and a children's clothing. Too many people frequented the larger chain shops, so she and Sherlock were testing out other locations. The booths had high backs, somewhat granting guests privacy. Zoe had yet to make a decision about the standard of their beverages and food.

Sherlock sat in a back booth avoiding eye contact with a blonde haired woman to his left. She still had a 'Sherlock Lives' pin on her backpack. He had been back for nearly two years and had expected that group of fans to settle down. It was becoming apparently clear that they were as dedicated as ever.

Zoe was at the front placing her food and drink order. While he waited, he found no harm in deducing the woman.

 _'Mid-twenties. Newly single. Actively engaging in blind dates and one night stands; her way of looking for love again. More of a reason to avoid her. She'll flirt.'_

If she hadn't been so into the Netflix show on her laptop she would have been doing so already.

"That woman still has one of those pins on her bag," he said lowly when Zoe slid into the booth with a tea cup and saucer in one hand and a panini in the other. She sat the items on the table and adjusted the black New York Yankees baseball cap that she wore. Sherlock thought it looked weird. It didn't blend into the London backdrop of spring ensembles wandering about.

"That hat is weird," he said when Zoe peeked to see the woman he had mentioned.

"Reggie sent it to me. He's completely in love with baseball. Zara's been trying to get him into football, but no luck so far," she said.

"You can't raise a child in a country where they call it soccer and expect any other outcome," he said.

Zara was Zoe's older sister who had relocated to the U.S. after meeting her husband Sean. Reggie was the couple's nine-year-old son and Zoe's nephew.

"I guess," she said. She took a bite of the panini and hummed.

 _'So the food is decent.'_ he thought. "As for that woman, your fans love you. You amaze them with your work and now you can't shake them," she said.

After she finished chewing, Zoe spoke again. "As for that woman, your fans love you. You amaze them with your work and now you can't shake them."

"I don't do it to amaze people," he huffed.

She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. "I know that, but it doesn't stop me or anyone else for being amazed."

"An average mind can be amazed by an amateur magician. It doesn't take much nowadays," he said.

"I resent that. That trick was cool. Clearly fake, but cool," she said with a playful pout, recalling the street performer they had passed the other day.

"You knew it was fake but didn't understand how until I explained it," he said with a smirk.

"Nope, I knew everything all along," she said taking a sip of her tea and looking away from him.

He shook his head at her and smiled fondly.

"Got an email reminder today for that media gala and Natalia has been on my case about finding a dress for it," she said placing the cup down.

"What gala?" he asked eyebrows furrowing.

She sighed. "The one I was invited to two weeks ago. It's like a social gathering for the who's who in media. There will be a few awards given out. I was nominated for my piece, but I won't know the results until that night. I definitely told you about it," she said.

"I probably deleted it," he said simply. He stared off for a moment and she let him do so, as it was clear he was thinking.

"I may be in attendance," he said after a moment.

"One minute you've deleted it and the next you're going? How are you planning on snagging an invite?" she said narrowing her eyes at him.

"Connections, Zoe, connections," he said meeting her gaze.

He watched her expression and almost heard her internally say 'I _just may have to connect my foot to your behind."_

"Violence is unnecessary," he hummed. She rolled her eyes and ignored the comment.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you if you knew anyone by the name C. Smith. I got flowers with a congratulations note about my nomination, but I have no idea who it's from," she said.

"Smith is a common last name. Would be easier to identify if they gave more than an initial. It's probably from a fan. It's only problematic if it was sent your home address which isn't public information," he said.

"Nope, they sent it to the Script offices," she said.

"No big deal then. Fans are always sending me junk to the Yard. Lestrade hates it but it's amusing to see him annoyed," he said.

Zoe hummed and proceeded to eat while Sherlock alternated between reading those around them, texting his connections about the gala, and making comments to Zoe about the last case he worked on and John's blog post about it. She periodically pointed out some good menu options but he declined. It wasn't the first time that she was the only one eating when they met for lunch.

After some time passed, Zoe went to meet with her stylist to find a dress for the gala and Sherlock headed to New Scotland Yard.

* * *

Zoe took a champagne flute from the passing tray as she entered the ballroom. There were plenty of people circulating the room in their best gowns and tuxes. She wished Sherlock was beside her telling her whose smiles were fake and whose were genuine. She didn't even like champagne but hoped it would take the edge off of the nerves. The thought of giving a speech tonight tempted her to down the glass and grab another, but she thought better of it.

"Ms. Howard, it's good to see you," a man said when she was only several steps into the room.

When she looked more closely at him, she recognized him as Xavier Brinkley, the former Cheif Operating Officer of a number of newspapers. His hair was fair grayer and his face gaunter than she remembered. After the death of media mogul Charles Magnussen, he had stepped down instead of taking over to the surprise of many. She was surprised to see him out and about. The last she had heard, he was tucked away somewhere quiet. Sherlock had been irritated about it.

"Hello, Mr. Brinkley. Are you faring well?" she said kindly.

Sherlock hadn't said much about the man and his former boss besides that he wasn't a good person. She knew there was far more to the story, but figured that he would let her know when he was ready. It was connected to his relapse and he rarely talked about the things that led to it. To anyone else Brinkley was just a man who quit his job, but Zoe knew better. Sherlock wouldn't be interested in him if he was completely innocent of criminal activities.

"As well as I can," Brinkley said.

She nodded. "Glad to hear it," she said. He gave her a smile.

He stood silently for a moment looking around the room. Zoe held in a sigh and crossed her arms over her midsection.

"Your piece was very well written. The research and effort are impressive," he finally said.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. It took some time to get it all together, but I'm glad it fell into place," she said.

"Keep at it and you'll be one of the greats," he said with a nod.

She gave him a small smile. ' _He seems genuine about that at least.'_

Brinkley didn't seem to have any more to say so Zoe quickly scanned the room until she caught the eye of, Tristan, one of her co-workers from the London Script. He hadn't been out of university long but was a talented writer. Zoe was something of a mentor to him at times. The young man waved and gestured for her to come over.

"It looks like someone is calling me over. It was nice talking with you, Mr. Brinkley," she said.

"Yes, right. Many people will want to talk with you this evening. Congratulations on your nomination," he said.

"Thank you. Enjoy your evening," she said.

"You as well, Ms. Howard," he said before nodding and walking towards another guest.

She quickly made her way across the room towards Tristan, heels lightly clicking.

"You looked miserable," he said with a grin when she reached his side.

"Gee, thanks," she deadpanned.

The pair joined a circle of colleagues and chatted until the master of ceremonies began his welcome and introductions. As the man spoke, Zoe felt eyes on her. Glancing around the room, she spotted Sherlock leaning against a pillar near the back of the room.

' _Looks like his connections worked out.'_

As quickly as she spotted him, she was already looking away. With Brinkley's presence, she wasn't surprised that Sherlock was here. That must have been why he had suddenly wanted to come to the gala. Now, she had to act like his presence didn't phase her.

Lingering glances in public, especially a room full of journalists, would be an easy giveaway. It would be in the papers tomorrow and all over social media within the hour. She could see it now, "Does Howard have the hots for Holmes?" or "Does He Make Her Wear the Hat Too?". She wouldn't put it past some of the tabloid writers to run an obnoxious headline like that.

She was brought back to focus by Tristan nudging her over to a new group of people. Smiling, she joined them.

Sherlock was scanning the crowd once again for Brinkley. During his time under Magnusson and even after, the man had managed to get himself into trouble involving money. He had covered his tracks in the past months, but not well enough. Unfortunately for Mr. Brinkley, the homicide of a bank employee brought attention to his accounts and revealed his money down non-violent felons wasn't Lestrade's area, but the detective inspector agreed to make the arrest this evening. The man was probably sitting in his car playing games on his phone while he waited for Sherlock's text.

Brinkley fell off the radar for weeks, but he had deduced that the man would show up at tonight's gala to keep up appearances and ensure his peers that he was well. A moronic move on his part.

Another part of Sherlock's mind was replaying the moment when he had spotted his partner as she entered the room in a lavender gown. It suited her shape and her golden brown complexion. He didn't know what the style was but he assumed it was what they called was less than pleased to see Brinkley sharing niceties with her, especially when her politeness turned into discomfort. If Mycroft had not been across the room rubbing elbows for information and networking, Sherlock may have gone over to interrupt. But as it were, he remained aloft. He did, however, smile internally later that evening when Zoe was called to the stage and recognized for her piece. After her speech, during which she thanked a "friend" he knew was him for some of her inspiration, Sherlock texted Lestrade and followed Xavier Brinkley outside when the man left for a smoke break.

While the writer and the consulting detective did not speak or share a glance that evening, Mycroft read his brother and his interest in the writer the moment she walked in the room. It took Sherlock just a second too long to look away. Sherlock's mask had become easier to decode as after his latest descent into narcotics. To Mycroft's chagrin, he had caught Miss. Howard's eyes straying to Sherlock subconsciously. When she had realized what she was doing, she quickly looked away. In his mind, whether her eye was on Sherlock for romantic interest or for a something criminal didn't matter. Both were problematic.

When the evening came to a close, Mycroft exited the venue and pulled his phone from his pocket to make a phone call. "Yes, I would like for you to contact John Watson in the morning and let him know that I need him to look into something for me."

* * *

After the gala, Zoe thought Sherlock had begun behaving strangely. He was even more picky about where they went out and always seemed to be looking over his shoulder. She worried that he had got himself into some kind of trouble with a case, like Moriarty level trouble. But, when she asked, he brushed it off. So, Zoe let it sit on the back burner while she continued to try and talk Natalia out of throwing her a massive birthday party. Besides an almost run in with John and little Rosamund, nothing had happened.

When the Saturday night of her twenty-eighth birthday arrived three weeks later, Zoe found herself surrounded by her closest friends in the upstairs VIP area of a nice restaurant that doubled as a club in the lower levels. She could feel the base from the music underneath her feet. It wasn't exactly her style, but she was willing to let loose and celebrate since it was her day. Besides, the place had gotten great reviews online. She could suffer through a younger crowd downstairs for great food upstairs.

"To Zoe!" her childhood friend Corey said raising his glass of beer.

"To Zoe!" the table echoed.

She raised her passion fruit margarita and smiled brightly.

Natalia smiled as she took a generous sip of the beverage. "Didn't I tell you this would be fun?" she said.

"I never doubted you. I just don't want to get too wasted," Zoe said.

"Cause you're meeting William," her best friend teased, nudging her.

"Shut it," she said before laughing.

Soon, the waiter brought out their food and stories about Zoe's adolescence were floating around. She laughed internally at the thought of Sherlock hearing some of the tales. She was sure he'd store the most embarrassing ones away. Near midnight and a few drinks in, Zoe sat at the table with just Corey and her stylish Grace, who weren't up for going down to the club. She loved to dance but knew if she got started there'd be no guarantee that she would be able to leave at a decent hour and make it to Baker Street. She was satisfied with dancing in her chair to the music playing in the more subdued upper level.

"Who's cheekbones checking you out over there?" Corey said leaning closer to her.

Bobbing her head to the beat of the music she looked around. "Where?" she said not seeing who he was talking about. She internally groaned when her head spun just a bit at the movement.

"Near the bar, there's a tall, pale, and posh looking fellow coming this way," Grace said.

Recognizing the description, Zoe smiled. It may have been the alcohol talking but she giggled and said, "I believe that is my ride home."

Corey looked at her with wide eyes. "That's him. That's William?" he was silent for a moment before he squinted his eyes to get a better look. "B-but, that's Sherlock Holmes, the detective guy. I've seen him in the papers," he said.

"And that's our secret for now" she said looking between her friends. She gave Corey a sly grin before standing up. "Tell the others William came and got me," she said.

"How am I supposed to keep that from Nat?" he said.

Before she could respond, Sherlock came to stand behind her. She was well aware of how much skin she was showing in the camel colored dress she was wearing. From the hand that rested on the small of her back and trailed up her bare spine, she knew Sherlock had noticed as well. The dress had been a gift from Natalia that she had been forced to wear.

"She'll know soon enough, I guess," she said holding back a shiver.

"If you say so. When she finds out, I'm going to act surprised. I'm not going to experience her temper," he said.

Zoe chuckled. "And I'll pretend to be surprised at your surprise," she said before waving and letting Sherlock lead her away. She kept her head down to avoid the attention she was sure Sherlock had garnered walking through the establishment.

"Happy birthday," he said lowly into her ear as they made it outside.

"Thank you," she said as she leaned into his side. It wasn't long before a cab pulled up and Sherlock helped her inside. She had tried her hardest to keep her hands off of him during the ride home but couldn't reframe from making comments about how good he looked and how she never drank this much. She even apologized for doing so.

When the cab came to a stop outside of 221B, Sherlock paid the fare and pulled Zoe from the back. As it pulled away, she basked in the pleasant almost summer weather.

"I love that the weather held up for my birthday," she said with a grin.

"Yes, lucky you. We were buried in snow for mine," he said with a frown.

She chuckled and wrapped her hands around his forearm. "But, we got to be snowed in together," she hummed. He made a "hn" sound in response.

"Y-you really didn't have to meet me. I could have easily caught a taxi on my own. Now, Corey and Grace know who you are." she said.

Sherlock pulled his keys from his pocket as he spoke. "Your friends would have continued to order you birthday shots had I not done so. You would have ended up dancing well into tomorrow."

"Nat is going to be bummed and then super curious about you kidnapping me," she said.

He huffed. "She's had you all weekend, she'll be fine. Besides, she will be going home with the chef," he said, "And you came willingly," he added on unlocking the door and turning towards the street.

Zoe's mouth dropped open. When she tried to respond, she noticed that the door was unlocked yet Sherlock was standing a bit tensely in front of her looking up and down the street.

"You're doing it again. What is it?" she said laying a hand on his chest. The purple shirt he wore was her favorite.

"Just a feeling," he said looking down at her briefly before scanning the street once more.

"Good or bad. Like should I be expecting you to tackle me out of the way of an incoming bullet or something?" she said.

"Bad but not dangerous, more so irritating."

She rolled his eyes at his dramatics. "Come on. I'd like to finish celebrating my birthday. You'll have to tell me about this chef later," she said stepping around him and into Baker Street.

"I would tell you to close your eyes, but that would be terribly cliché," he said when they reached the top of the stairs. "You're also not fully sober so you might walk into something," he mumbled. He was grateful that she wasn't so drunk that she was incapable of climbing the steps on her own.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's fine and not unexpected," he said.

Zoe gasped when he opened the door to the flat. The room was aglow with candles. A voice in the back of her buzzed mind worried about the fire hazard. Walking further into the flat, she noticed a cake on the kitchen table. She turned to Sherlock and gave a playful grin.

"Have you been holding out on me this whole time by hiding your baking skills?"

"Hardly. I told Mrs. Hudson it was someone's birthday and she asked what your favorite was and baked it this afternoon. She also helped Wiggins light the candles while I was out getting you. Of course, she asked a million questions, none of which I answered," he said.

"Of course you didn't. I have to meet her tomorrow to say thank you and introduce myself. I would do it tonight but it's pretty much the middle of the night and I'm less than sober as you've reminded me," she said walking over to Sherlock's chair. When she was seated she leaned forward to remove her pumps.

"I'm sure she'd be overjoyed and make you breakfast," he said watching her.

"Sounds like a plan then. By the way, how'd you get Wiggins to do something so trivial?" she said.

"You could say he owes me. I'm currently helping him get into Uni. He's smart and you know how I feel about minds going to waste," he said.

She hummed in agreement and as she dropped the second shoe on the ground, she leaned back and sank into the chair.

"Have I told you how much I love this chair, Sherbet?" she said.

"Yes, the night you had far too much of that tequila Zara sent," he hummed ignoring the nickname.

"Ah yes, the night Sherbear was born," she laughed.

He huffed. "Come into the kitchen so you can eat cake," he said going into the kitchen. Zoe rose and followed.

"My kingdom for a homemade cake!" she said.

"That sounds like a terrible deal," he said facing away from her as he grabbed a knife from the cutlery drawer.

She eyed it when he turned towards her. "Is that clean?"

"I think so," he said looking it over.

The pair were silent until Sherlock smirked. "I ran the dishwasher this morning."

She arched an eyebrow. "With dish detergent?" she asked.

"Yes, now make some kind of wish or whatever it is people do and eat," he said.

"There's supposed to be candles to blow out but it'll do. I'll just blow something else later," she said with a straight face hoping to get a rise out him. She grinned when his grip on the knife tightened. With a triumphant grin, she closed her eyes and made a wish.

"There, wish made. Cake please," she said.

After they both had pieces of cake, Zoe's larger than Sherlock's, he put some music and joined her on the sofa. As she ate the red velvet cake, she marveled at the way the candles lit the room and cast shadows onto the wallpaper.

"This is beautiful, Sherlock. Thank you for all this," she said leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You're welcome," he said laying his head on top of hers.

When the cake was done the pair sat and enjoyed the music for a while. Zoe knew that soon she would get tired so she began to slowly run her hand down the top of Sherlock's thigh before lifting her head from his shoulder.

His gaze ran across her face as she shifted and climbed into his lap.

"I guess I should follow through, huh?" she said.

"Only if you want to. It is your birthday after all," he said.

She smiled softly at his response and leaned in to capture his lips. In her ears, the music faded into a blur and all she could hear was their breathing. She shivered when his hands pushed the fabric that covered her thighs up.

Zoe let out an embarrassing squeal when he flipped them over and laid her on the sofa.

"We wouldn't want to wake poor Mrs. Hudson, would we?" he said.

Zoe smacked his chest. "Your fault if we do," she said.

Instead of replying he lowered himself and kissed her again. Her hands found their way gently into his curls.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who has left a review, followed me and this story or favorited it. If you want to see the dresses Zoe wore, check out these links (without the spaces of course) gala gown just lavender with dark purple flowers- bit. ly/ 2gNCmX3 and the birthday dress - bit. ly/ 2hI7Gs5

I was very sick last week and then a very close family friend passed away. Cancer really does suck. Anyway, thanks for sticking around. Secrets Kept was always meant to be a short fic and I have one more definite final chapter planned and almost finished. If I get some recommendations for outtakes or future scenes, I just may write a few of them after I complete the story! I had a Christmas story in mind featuring Zoe's sister coming for a visit so we'll see. Season four is so close, guys! Until next time.

-K


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the last chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it. I don't own Sherlock or any recognizable characters. I don't have a beta reader, so I apologize for any errors I may have missed. Warning for this chapter: mention of addiction and drug use. Without further ado, it's time for these two to get caught and tell the tale of how they met!

* * *

 _ **Three Weeks Earlier**_

At Mycroft's request, John started to pay more attention to Sherlock's behavior. He wasn't sure what had raised the alarms for the eldest Holmes brother, but he hadn't noticed whatever it was. It certainly wasn't easy trying to keep a close eye on his friend on top of working and managing his own family. He had already spent the last few months watching for relapse so the thought that something was going on that he was missing didn't sit well with him. He didn't even kid himself into thinking he knew everything about Sherlock even after all this time, but John thought they had been through enough together to know the signs of an underlying issue or situation.

He took note of anything that seemed a bit out of the ordinary and kept Mycroft in the loop. At first, he had noticed that Sherlock was getting a few more texts than normal. When asked, Sherlock said he had asked his homeless network to step their game up and send him any leads that could relate to the Moriarity "return". He went on to say that any information, even small actions, and events could be a red flag. Then there were days where he expected Sherlock to be in a bad mood only to find his friend doing just fine. After Magnussen, Mycroft had warned him about his past experiences while Sherlock was regularly using and then after a relapse, but he was surprised that there were fewer "danger days" than he expected.

There was one occasion that stuck with John, though. He had popped into Baker Street one afternoon on his day off, but Sherlock hadn't been home. When he had returned to the flat, Sherlock explained that he had been out doing research for an experiment.

 _"Anything interesting? Is it connected to a case?" John said._

 _Sherlock stared at him a moment and John knew his friend was trying to decipher the reasoning behind his questions. John was not often interested in Sherlock's experiments unless they involved his or Mrs. Hudson's well-beings or the structural integrity of the flat._

 _After a moment, Sherlock looked back down at his phone and answered. "Interesting? Yes. Would you understand it? No. And no, it's not about a case. Simply personal interest," Sherlock said typing on his phone._

 _John glared at the detective's dig at his intellect. When he saw that Sherlock had no more to say he let out a heavy breath._

 _"Well then, are you up for lunch?" John said._

 _"No," Sherlock replied._

 _"If I'm correct you didn't eat yesterday or the day before because of the case. Brinkley has been in jail for a week, the murder from yesterday was caught, and you're supposed to pursue a better diet given your...circumstances," John said crossing his arms. As a doctor, he had taken it upon himself to help with some of the medical steps to keeping Sherlock healthy._

 _Sherlock's head snapped up from his phone. He leveled John with a dark stare. "If you must know, I've already had lunch," Sherlock hissed._

 _John stared for a moment trying to pick up on any signs that the other man was lying. Finding nothing, he threw his arms in the air in exasperation. He knew Sherlock did not need reminding about the state he was in at the start of the year but felt like his friend needed the monitoring._

 _"If you say so. I can't babysit you, I've got Rosamund for that," John said dropping into his chair._

 _"I don't need a babysitter," Sherlock said._

Knowing he wasn't going to catch Sherlock outright, he had asked Mycroft for ideas. The elder Holmes suggested taking Mary and Rosamund out of town and returning on his own earlier than expected in a more low-key manner. That way Sherlock's network wouldn't spot him and report back to the detective. A few weeks later and after some arranging and scheduling with work, John took Mary and the youngest Watson to visit his mother. He told Mary he had to go back early to deal with something Sherlock related and she understood.

Saturday, a day earlier than the consulting detective and his network expected, John stopped by Baker Street only for Mrs. Hudson to answer the door in an apron telling him that Sherlock was out. The landlady seemed a bit confused at his attire; a baseball cap and hoodie. She was otherwise in a good mood so John figured nothing untoward was going on. Not finding any reason to hang about he left the building. He stopped into Speedy's to grab a cuppa and a quick bite since he hadn't eaten before he rushed out of his mother's home that morning to catch the train. He felt silly disguising himself as if he were a celebrity.

As he took a sip of his tea and looked out of the cafe's window he spotted Bill Wiggins arriving at 221 Baker Street with multiple bags. From his angle, John couldn't tell what the bags contained. He was tempted to confront the young man but knew doing so would tip Sherlock off to his early return. Instead, he texted Mycroft.

John: Sherlock is out but there appears to be some activity at Baker Street. Wiggins arrived with a bunch of bags.

It didn't take long for his phone to ring. John sighed deeply. _'Why can't he just text me?'_

"Hello," he said answering the phone.

"I'm sending someone to keep watch for the remainder of the day. You may return home," Mycroft said.

John huffed. "And one of your men couldn't be assigned this detail from the beginning?" he said.

Mycroft sighed. "He can easily spot them. Even when I send in new people he spots them. This one will be hidden nearby before he returns home. If he's preoccupied trying to do things while you're gone, he just may miss small indicators," he said.

"Right well, let's hope it works," John said.

That evening, John was on the verge of falling asleep on the sofa with the news playing in the background. The news anchor seemed to be discussing highlights of the day. "And today we celebrate a few birthdays. We're wishing author and journalist Zoe Howard, actress Casey Turner, and our art director Benji Davis a very happy birthday. Coming up, we'll show you a sneak peek at Turner's new film. Stay tuned," the woman said. Photos of the three people mentioned were on the screen as it faded out to a commercial break.

John sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He was contemplating turning in for the night when his phone began to ring. He grabbed the device off of the coffee table and quickly answered it seeing Mycroft's name on the screen.

"What's going on?" John said.

"Sherlock has made an appearance at a nightclub downtown. He didn't stay long and he left with a woman," Mycroft said.

John's mouth fell open and he was silent for a moment. "S-Sherlock leaving a nightclub with someone? Are you sure it was him?"

"That's what I've been told and there was visual confirmation. Someone is already in place near Baker Street. I'm thinking of dropping by in the morning. Care to join me?"

John was at a loss. If Sherlock was with someone, John knew dropping in unannounced in the morning would cause issues.

"Not really. At this point, if we know he's with someone why is that our business?" John said.

"It's our business if that someone turns out to be working for someone. If that someone means to bring Sherlock harm. Now would be the perfect time to swoop in since he's been trying to get himself back on track," the eldest Holmes answered.

The doctor's mind went to Irene Adler. The last women to truly get under Sherlock's skin and that had led to government information being deciphered and Moriarity getting one over on Mycroft.

"Fine, what time?" John sighed into the phone.

* * *

 _ **Present**_

Sherlock and Zoe were still in bed, tangled together as sunlight began to stream into the room.

"We should get up so I can meet Mrs. Hudson," she said into his collarbone.

"I'd give her a bit more time to wake up," he mumbled.

"Time to kill," she said pressing her lips to his skin.

"I could walk you through the Brinkley case again," he said.

"Shut up," she said with a laugh.

His reply was to roll over, trapping her underneath of him. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He went to lean in but paused.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Someone's coming up," he began. "Mh, it seems that Mycroft has gained another pound and John stubbed his toe on that coffee table again," he said after a moment.

The way her eyes widened may have been comical if his irritation hadn't been increasing by the second. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. "I thought he was on a diet. And how can you even tell about the toe?"

"Diet failed again and he's putting weight on one foot than he is the other," he said quickly.

He sighed knowing it would do no good to try and hide her now. Even if his guest ignored the extinguished candles littering the flat and leftover cake in the kitchen (which Zoe had demanded he cover before he carried her back into his room the night before), her shoes were in front of his chair, his shirt was somewhere in the sitting area, his lips still swollen, and hair more out of place than usual. Sherlock scowled. It seemed that John wasn't being honest when he told Sherlock he'd be staying in this weekend to look after his daughter given Mary's severe cold. Sherlock briefly wondered if the woman was even sick.

Sherlock quickly climbed out of the bed, while Zoe flung her arms out to the side.

"We had peace...but everything changed when the fire nation attacked," she said.

"What?" Sherlock said, eyebrows furrowed.

She held back a laugh. "Nothing, it's from a show Reggie likes," she said waving him off. "Might as well get dressed too," she continued.

"Morning ruined," Sherlock mumbled.

"My, my brother, it seems you're not as inept to women as I had thought," Mycroft called out as he followed John into the flat and took a look around. Sherlock, dressed in his dressing gown walked out to meet them.

"You have terrible timing and no relationship of your own to ruin, so you barge into mine," Sherlock said hotly to his brother.

As the pair came further into sitting area they looked around. Sherlock positioned himself in front of the windows and looked up and down the street. "Where were your people this time?" he said.

"I had a man stationed at the end of the street. He posed as a visiting relative to one of the couples living there," Mycroft said.

Sherlock turned and leveled his brother with a glare before turning his attention to John. "Did you even go visit your mother, or was that a lie to corner me?" Sherlock spat.

While John floundered for a response. Zoe quietly stood in the hallway leading from Sherlock's room. _'Maybe I should go before things get too heated.'_ she thought.

"Can I have nothing for myself without the two of you teaming up and investigating me?" Sherlock said, his voice growing louder.

"You brought in the new year by almost overdosing!" Mycroft roared.

John took a step back at the outburst. He had never seen the pair argue like this.

"And yet, here I am!" Sherlock said.

'They're going to tear each other's head off.' Zoe thought to herself before stepping into the room.

"Sherlock," she called out softly.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath at the sound of her voice. It sounded like she was trying to calm a child and he hated it.

Mycroft and John turned and stared at her. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants that she had left over on a previous night and one of Sherlock's undershirts.

"I saw you on the telly last night," were the first words to come out of John's mouth. Mycroft rolled his eyes at the doctor. "Ms. Howard," he said.

"Rude umbrella man," she replied. Sherlock snorted and Mycroft was not pleased. John couldn't help but smile.

Zoe was glad she was able to lighten the room up a bit.

"I'm fine," Sherlock said to her.

She walked over and placed a hand on his forearm. "I know you are. Just didn't want you to feel like you were facing the firing squad alone," she said. He looked down at her and she could see that he appreciated her standing by his side in front of his brother. He wasn't too worried about John.

"I'll have you know Ms. Howard that if you've involved yourself in Sherlock's life only to cause trouble that you and whomever you may be working for will regret it," Mycroft said giving her a look that made her shrink back.

"Considering I only work for myself and a few newspapers and have no ill will towards your brother, you won't have to work very hard. In fact, my intentions are quite the opposite. I prefer a happy Sherlock to any alternative," she said.

John's mouth was agape and Mycroft seemed to be scrutinizing her. Sherlock let a small smile spread across his.

When no one spoke, she decided to break the silence. "Well, it would seem that my birthday celebrations are over, so I'm going to head home. Just gonna pop in and say hello to Mrs. Hudson and be on my way…" Zoe said quickly. The last thing she wanted to do today was to have a stare down with Sherlock's brother.

"I'm sorry we interrupted your birthday…we just wanted to know what was going on," John said.

"I would have gladly disclosed the information to you, John...after some time...had you asked. Mycroft, not so much," Sherlock said glaring at his brother.

Mycroft huffed. "I'm curious as to when you even had the time to start a relationship," he said.

"You may think you know everything about my time away, but you don't," Sherlock said.

The detective sighed deeply and faced the window again. Zoe knew their meeting came at a time that also involved a lot of dreadful memories. He had no interest in digging through them all and recounting how they met. So, she took it upon herself to tell the tale.

"I was traveling for a story," she began.

* * *

 ** _Madrid, Spain - Two years ago_**

 _"And this is the last piece of the collection," the museum's curator said. He would never grow tired of telling visitors about the works on display._

 _Zoe was in awe. The piece was definitely the stand out of the collection with its burst of bright colors and clean lines._

 _"It's amazing. Do we know why he chose to amp up the color with this final one?" she asked the man._

 _"There was a year gap between the completion of the piece before and this final one because Acosta got married. He and his wife spent a few months traveling. It's said that when he returned he took influences from African and Middle Eastern culture and tied those in with his previous work along with his emotional state at the time," the man said admiring the piece with a smile._

 _Zoe loved that this man had seen this piece every day for weeks and still seemed to be wowed by it like he was seeing it for the first time._

 _"I guess it's safe to assume it was a happy marriage," she said with a smile._

 _He chuckled and glanced at her. "Si. Yes, very much so."_

 _As the curator went on more about the piece, Zoe's attention was drawn to a man standing in front of the first piece of the collection. His curly hair clung to his neck as if he had spent the majority of the morning outside in the heat. Zoe herself had stuck to air conditioned or cooler areas. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows; toned forearms on display. His posture reminded her of a character from her first novel. He was stiff but it looked like he was forcing himself to relax. He was intently focused on the painting in front of him but it was almost like his attention was elsewhere._

 _"Senorita Howard?"_

 _Zoe turned back towards the guide. "I'm sorry, Alex. It seems I was a bit distracted."_

 _"It's okay. Who can help it when you're surrounded by such amazing artwork?"_

 _"Yes, you can't resist," she replied giving the man a smile._

 _"I'll leave you to examine the pieces more. You're more than welcome to use the benches to sit if you feel the need to do some writing," he said._

 _"Thank you, Alex. I will let you know if I need any other information. It's been an insightful afternoon."_

 _"It has been a pleasure having you," he said in return. With_ _that_ , _he gave her a nod and moved along to some of the other visitors in the museum._

 _Once he was gone, Zoe turned towards the stranger again. He was still standing in front of the first Acosta piece. Because she had nothing else planned besides stare at art and write for the rest of the day, she walked over to him._

 _When she was beside him she noticed his sharp cheeks and bright eyes. "_ _¿Estás bien aquí?_ _" she said._

 _He blinked a few times before turning his blue-grey gaze to her. "I'm assuming you just said something to me," he said, his British accent clear. He was speaking lowly as if he didn't want to be heard._

 _"And I'm assuming that you completely missed whatever I just said," she replied._

 _"Obviously. You wanted to say something else but you're not confident in your Spanish," he said returning his gaze to the painting on the wall._

 _She gave him a fake smile. "How kind of you to point that out," she said._

 _"You must be a talented journalist if you're editor has allowed you to travel such a distance for a piece," he said._

 _"How did you know I was a journalist?" she said, a brow raising._

 _"Your notepad," he said pointing to the notepad in her hand along with the pen._

 _"Right well, I would like to believe so. It may also help that my last travel piece boosted his sales," she said joining in admiring the painting._

 _"And the fact that he finds you attractive," he said._

 _Her gaze quickly returned to him. "What? How could you possibly know a thing like that?" she said._

 _"Most people who like women and don't have a bias because of your race would more than likely agree that you are attractive. Also, it doesn't seem that you have a companion on this trip. He doesn't want you getting too close to others because he wants most of your attention when you're in the office, which is rarely."_

 _Zoe was stumped and suddenly very nervous. How could this stranger know that she rarely if ever went into the office? She took a step back and looked around the area for exits._

 _"Are you some kind of spy? Are you supposed to kill me or something? Was it because of that drug bust last year? You can tell your boss that it was completely coincidental. I mean seriously, how I was supposed to know a story about the drug scene at music festivals was going to lead to a drug ring bust? Isn't this place a bit too public to off someone? And why follow me to an entirely different continent?"_

 _She was rambling and couldn't stop; her voice growing more frantic which each question._

 _The curly haired man looked around before taking a step towards her. She was beginning to draw attention and that was the last thing he needed. Especially when the last member of Moriarty's Madrid team was standing on the other side of the room with his wife and children._

 _"Will you shut up! I am not here to kill you," he hissed quietly. His target turned in their direction forcing him to step closer towards her to hide his face. He could feel the shiver that went through her at his approach._

 _"I am a detective. There is a man across the room whom I have been tracking for two months. Because of your near hysteria, he is looking over here. If he recognizes me, people will die. Now, may I kiss you?" he said quickly._

 _Zoe went from looking afraid to deeply confused. "What?" This attractive stranger, who was apparently not here to kill her, was asking to kiss her. This was not what she had expected when she walked over._

 _"I'll explain_ _afterward," he said softly._

 _"O-okay," she said._

 _With her consent, he leaned down and pressed his lips gently against hers. Assuming that he was acting she figured she could do the same so she placed her hand on his cheek._

 _After a few seconds_ , _he pulled away but did not leave her bubble of personal space. "Public displays of affection make most people uncomfortable. Especially parents who would rather not have their children watch a couple kiss in public," he said._

 _He quickly stole a glance at his target to see that he had moved his family along to the next piece of art and had his back turned from them._

 _She nodded uncertainly. "Can I know the name of the stranger who just kissed me in the middle of a museum?" she said quietly._

 _He stepped back and looked her over for a moment. "Later," he said. He looked over his shoulder before giving her a quick look. "Must be going," he said before exiting the museum._

 _By later, he meant finding her while she ate dinner two nights later in one of the city's most popular restaurants. He had calmly joined her, ignoring her jump of fright, and ordered a shot of tequila._

 _"This isn't creepy at all," she said before taking a big sip of her sangria._

 _"I did say later," he said._

 _"And I was supposed to assume that meant just walking away without exchanging information, only for you to pop up out of the blue two days later?"_

 _He only hummed and looked over the menu that she had laid down._

 _"William," he said._

 _"Huh?"_

 _"My name is William. You wanted to know and now you do."_

 _"You don't look like a William. I'll have to make do with your made-up name," she said._

 _For the first time since they had crossed paths, he looked amused._

 _"I'll have you know that William is really my name. Now, the polite thing to do is tell me yours," he said._

 _She paused before replying. "_ Adelena _," she said._

 _"No," he said._

 _"Excuse me?" she said beginning to feel a strange combination of annoyance and amusement. 'Who is this man?' she thought to herself._

 _"Your name isn't Adelena, at least not your first name."_

 _"Fine, since you seem to know so much. My first name is Zoe. Adelena is my middle name."_

 _"Was that your grandmother's name or…." He trailed off._

 _"_ Adelena _was my grandmother's older sister's name. She died when they were very young," she said._

 _"See, I know everything."_

 _"It would seem you don't. Still, I am intrigued by how you know so much," she said._

 _Before he could speak the waitress came to take their orders. After the young woman walked away he spoke_ _._

 _"Sherlock," he said._

 _"Is that your middle name?" she said._

 _"Yes, but unlike you, that is the name I go by," he said._

 _She looked him over a moment before smiling. "It fits," she said. "How many shots do I have to give you for you to explain why you look so familiar?" she said leaning forward._

 _Over the next three days, they would share meals and visit sites when they had the time. Since this wasn't a person vacation for either of them they didn't have unlimited time to spend together. It didn't take long for Sherlock to find his next lead but before he left he wanted to see her again._

 _William: Meet me for lunch at the cafe near the fountain at noon._

 _It didn't take long for her to respond._

 _Zoe: See you then._

 _She wore a lavender sundress with a pair of yellow low-heeled sandals. He watched as she pushed her aviators up onto her head and looked around the cafe. She smiled when she spotted him and made her way over._

 _"Hello," she greeted._

 _He nodded in response._

 _"My flight home is tomorrow afternoon," she said sitting down._

 _"I have a flight in two hours," he said._

 _"And so you wanted to have one last meeting," she said giving him a somewhat sad smile._

 _He was pleased to see that she wasn't too happy at the notion of his departure. It made his next task easier. "Yes," he paused and looked away from her, his nerves bubbling up much to his frustration._

 _"I also wanted to see if you would be interested in staying in contact with one another," he said. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding when he looked to see a smile on her face. It was a sight he was becoming fond of._

 _"I'm not sure I want to run up my bill because of international calls," she said in a teasing voice._

 _He rolled his eyes. "It would have to be by hand and in some kind of code," he said._

 _She eyed him for a moment. "You're into something very dangerous aren't you? I mean I know you said detective, but this is like something out of a Bond movie," she said._

 _"At this point in my career detective doesn't entirely capture everything I do," he said with a sigh._

 _"How will I know the code. It sounds risky to send the code in the mail," she said._

 _Sherlock smirked and reached into a black backpack that was on the floor next to his car. "I've already thought ahead," he said._

 _He handed her two envelopes. "One is the code and instructions, the other my first letter," he said._

 _"Are you going to say something cheesy like 'Don't read it until you get home?'" she said._

 _"I would prefer it," he said._

 _She nodded and was silent for a moment. "Since we're still getting to know each other I'll give the address used for my fan mail and have my agent be on the look out for it so I get it as soon as it arrives. I'll try and write back as quickly as possible so I can catch you before you relocate," she said.'_

 _"Sounds like a plan," he said._

* * *

"And so what, you just became pen pals? Is he really that romantic with his words?" John said. By now, Zoe had settled herself on the sofa and Sherlock was sitting in his car.

By now, Zoe had settled herself on the sofa. She rolled her eyes at John's questions.

"You took a break from tracking a major criminal for dinner?" Mycroft said facing his brother.

"They weren't love letters, Doctor Watson. We were getting to know each other. We talked about our favorite books, writers, foods, and easy stuff at first. We didn't make anything official until a few weeks before his return to London." she said.

Her mind brought up the memory of not hearing from him for an extended period of time right after they had decided to become an item. More than once she had feared the worse. Upon his return to London, he had told her about his spot of trouble in Siberia.

"I had taken care of Escarrá before I sought her out," Sherlock told his brother.

Mycroft rolled his eyes in response.

John looked between Zoe and his friend for a moment before speaking again. "Kind of creepy following her to dinner, but you've done worse at a restaurant," John said giving Sherlock a pointed look.

"Are you still on about that? You and Mary are married now. You've even got a baby! Who cares how the proposal happened?" Sherlock said.

"I told you it was a bad idea. And it matters to a lot of people," Zoe said before John could snap back.

Sherlock frowned at her.

"Should I be planning to see a happy announcement soon?" Mycroft said.

"Wedding announcements are ghastly and self-serving and mainly used to show former lovers and friends that life has gone on without them. Sometimes they're even used to show off a jump in social circles," Sherlock said.

The room fell silent for a beat.

"Well, clearly no wedding announcements," Zoe said standing up, "As fun as this has been, I'm a bit hungover and Mrs. Hudson is up."

The landlady's humming could be heard from downstairs.

"No, we'll go," John said glancing at Mycroft. "We probably shouldn't have popped in like this anyway," he continued.

"And yet you did," Sherlock grumbled.

"Alright, we're going," John said holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Mycroft simply stared between Zoe and his brother.

"Was there something else, brother mine?" Sherlock said.

It unnerved Zoe when the man suddenly smirked and walked to the door, umbrella in hand. His expression looked smug. He paused in the entryway.

"You may be getting a call from mother soon," he said before slipping out of the door.

Sherlock shot up from his chair. "You told her!" he roared.

"That's my cue," John said, quickly leaving as well.

* * *

That's all folks! Thank you so much for reading this fic. I have some requests about Sherlock and Zoe's time while he was away that I'm gonna work on soon. I also have a Christmas outtake in mind too. I'm open to other ideas and requests as well. I hope that everyone had a good Christmas and will have a good and safe New Years!

I'll be live tweeting the Sherlock season 4 premiere on the 1st, so if anyone wants to join me the Twitter username to check out is cocovanilla45. That will be the U.S. Eastern time zone. Anyway, be the awesome people I know you can be and leave a review and give me some ideas for some outtakes. :) BTW that little bit of Spanish roughly translates to "You okay over here?"

-K


	6. Update

Hi, everyone!

Thank you so much for all of your reviews, follows, and favorites! I really appreciate it and appreciate you all checking out this story. I've posted the first of what will be several one-shots featuring Sherlock and Zoe. The first chapter is posted under the story called "Secrets Divulged".

-K


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